Hallelujah
by Llyzbeth
Summary: Ten minutes after the shooting in Posse Comitatus (PG 13 for a little bit of profanity)


Lyrics written by Leonard Cohen, sung by Jeff Buckley  
  
well, maybe there's a god above but all i've ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you it's not a cry that you hear at night it's not somebody who's seen the light it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah  
  
hallelujah ----------  
One step after another. She doesn't know where she is. Doesn't care, really. Some stranger in the crowd jostles against her, and with it the random thought "Simon would've been all over that guy, would've known who he was, where he was going, if he was dangerous..and then he'd yell at me for not watching where I was going..being out here, all alone.."  
She can't breathe, she can't think. She slumps down on the bench, despair pressing down on her, anger, hopelessness, and she cries, whispering "No..no, oh Simon no.."  
I'll never see you again. I'll never talk to you again. You'll never tell me to be careful, stand beside me, be mad, laugh..  
It's raining again. It's cold and wet, and nothing's ever going to be okay again.  
You weren't supposed to be there. You were going to come back.  
A hand touches her shoulder.  
She looks up and behind her, blinking away tears and rain, expecting Ron, or Toby or Josh, standing there, with meaningless words of comfort.  
It's Simon.  
Her heart makes a painful lurch and she jumps up, panicked, her fist clenched against her mouth, thinking I've lost it, I'm crazy, it's a hallucination, it's a ghost..  
It's neither.  
Simon Donovan stands in front of her, one hand raised now in a half calming, half pleading gesture. The other is pressed against his ribs, gingerly, as he winces in pain. A thought flutters through CJ's mind "..a bulletproof vest doesn't stop you from getting bruised or broken ribs.." but that's all she can think. Her ears are humming, blocking out the noise of the traffic, the people, the rain.  
Simon tries to smile at her.  
And she's standing against him, cradling his face between her fingers. There's no moment in between, she's just suddenly there. She's saying "Oh my god Simon oh my god," over and over, she doesn't know for how long, crying and laughing and gasping for breath, touching his face to make sure he's really here.  
"CJ," he whispers. His hand is on the back of her neck, their foreheads touching as he gasps "Dammit we couldn't FIND you, the officer's..the one that drove me over..they're still looking but.." he winces again, the hand on her neck tightening, and she can feel him shudder, breathing hard against the pain in his ribs.  
Sliding an arm around him carefully, she guides him around the bench so he can sit, sits next to him.  
"Simon..you're bleeding," she says, surprised at how calm her own voice is, looking down at the smear of red that now covers her arm.  
"Yeah," he gasps. "Think one of the bullets nicked my arm...it's not too bad, don't worry."  
She stares at him for a second. "Don't WORRY??" she says with an outraged laugh, feeling more than a little hysterical. Pulling off her wrap to hold against his arm, CJ looks around frantically, drawing in breath to call for help. Before she can, she sees two police officers running towards her.  
There's a lot of confusion and shouting for the next minute, and CJ gathers from all the noise that when Simon woke up at the crime scene he first called Ron, then shrugged off the paramedics and convinced one of the police officers to drive him back to the theatre.  
"Can't believe I let you talk me into that, buddy," the officer mumbles, helping CJ tie the wrap around Simon's arm, while the other officer radio's in the paramedics. "Dumbest thing I ever did."  
"I think I got you beat," Simon mutters through gritted teeth.  
The officer leaves to clear the area and flag down the ambulance when it arrives. For a moment, CJ and Simon are alone. She reaches over to hold his hand in both of hers, and he leans against her gratefully.  
"Jesus, it happened so fast," he pants. "Goddam stupid, didn't even LOOK to make sure the place was clear, then..." he takes several breaths, looks at her wryly. "I didn't even have time for my life to flash before my eyes, one second I'm making a stupid joke and the next I'm lying on the floor. Felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Don't know how long I was out, but I saw paramedics pushing past people to get inside, and some cop's on the phone with Ron, and the clerk's screaming at him "He's dead he's dead.." He squeezes her hand. "Easy mistake I guess, I sure FELT dead for a few.."  
"Oh don't don't.." She presses her lips against his head, whispering into his hair "You're not dead," almost to reassure herself. "I was so sure.."  
"Ron got a garbled report. If you'd been around two minutes later.." he sighs. "CJ, swear to god, the only thing I could think about in the patrol car was you walking around somewhere thinking I was dead."  
Something flutters from the collar of his tuxedo, to fall in his lap. They look down.  
A handful of white and red rose petals.  
He laughs ruefully, picking a few up and putting them in her hand.  
"I just remembered why I'd gone into that damn store in the first place." He looks at her, a small smile in his eyes. "Don't suppose you like roses?"  
She half-sobs, half laughs, swiping at her eyes with a free hand. "I sure USED to," she says. "I'm not gonna be able to look at 'em after tonight without thinking.." she stops, leaning against him, crying again.  
"Well, we'll just have to find something you like better." And he kisses her, slowly, carefully, his hand reaching up to touch her hair, and she lets the petals fall as she holds his hand again, tightly, breathing in the smell and taste of him, the realness and solidness and THERE-ness of him under her hands and against her lips.  
That would be, of course, when the paramedics showed up.  
  
----------  
  
but remember when i moved in you and the holy dove was moving too and every breath we drew was hallelujah  
  
hallelujah.. 


End file.
